Helen was looking forward to seeing Martin again. She had 'known' him for quite a while via the Internet and had met up with him in person just once before. They had seemed to get along really well, and even though it was a first meeting, they had had sex… and that had been good too. Now it was time for them to meet again.
Helen was not some giddy girl, but a mature woman who had her feet firmly on the ground… but the thought of spending another few days away from her ordinary life, with Martin had her flushing and sighing like a love sick teen. She tried to decide what it was about Martin that made her feel this way, and the only thing she could think of was the fact that he knew exactly what he wanted and wasn't afraid to say so. Helen liked that in a man – not the whole time. She was far too used to having to cope on her own to be ordered about like a kid, but when it came to the bedroom… she liked a man to be firmly in charge.
This time, Martin was to come to her place. She had been going crazy all week, cleaning already clean rooms, washing already clean clothes, plumping cushions that didn't need plumping. Every time she told herself to sit down and relax she would think of some imaginary task that needed doing and she would be off again. And here she was, with just an hour to go, standing in her bedroom, remaking the bed for the third time. 'Get a grip woman!' she sternly told herself… we might not even make it this far. She fervently hoped they did… she was a woman after all said and done – and women had the same needs as men. Sure, she had a toy that she occasionally used on herself – but it just wasn't the same as the real thing. And just lately, after spending time with Martin, a do-it-yourself session was just hollow. Now… what if HE was to use the toy? Really take control? Make her lose control? Ohhh that was a delicious thought, and Helen felt her abdomen give a lurch, and felt her vulva tighten slightly.
Helen gave herself a mental shake. She must stop this. If she didn't, and mapped out the meeting and nothing happened, it would be twice as disappointing! Anyone would think Martin was the only man she had ever been to bed with… and this wasn't the case. Just, since her partner had died a number of years before, she hadn't really had much opportunity. No, that was a lie. She had had ample offers… but a quick wham bang thank-you Ma'am type sexual encounter was not what she wanted. Just after the death, she hadn't wanted sex… but as each year passed, she found herself wanting that connection again.
Helen checked the clock, only about twenty minutes to go. She went through to check the bathroom just one more time, and at the same time ran a brush through her hair, checking carefully for any signs of grey roots showing through. Time was when she didn't need to do a thing to her hair, but these days, she needed help from a bottle to keep her naturally blonde hair looking blonde. At least that's was all the help she needed, her hair curled naturally and as long as she kept it trimmed. Helen had quite a striking face as her eyelashes and eyebrows were a much darker blonde than her hair, and framed her deep blue eyes perfectly. Should she put some make up on??? No! She didn't usually wear much unless going out somewhere 'posh' and so wouldn't bother now. Let Martin find her as she usually was.
Helen made her way downstairs and forced herself to sit and relax. Five minutes to go… and she hoped he would be on time, as she didn't think her nerves could take him being late. The hands on her mantle clock seemed to have stuck and Helen checked her watch. Nope – it was right… just time seemed to stand still when you were waiting. Was that a car??? Helen stood up to check and then quickly sat down again feeling foolish. Helen leaned back and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down and count backwards from a hundred. She had got as far as 15 when the trill of the doorbell made her jump. Jumping up and smoothing her skirt, Helen made her way to the door.
Martin stood there, dressed casually, but smartly, holding a huge bunch of flowers down at his side. Helen went suddenly shy and only managed to mumble “Hi there,” as she stood to one side. Martin stepped into the hallway and stopped, waiting for Helen to show him the way. Acting the perfect hostess, Helen led him to the comfortable sitting room and showed him to a chair. Martin smiled his thanks and went to sit down, but stood again as Helen asked if she ought perhaps take the flowers before they got crushed. “Ah, yes, that would be rather a good idea,” he grinned, “I bought these and then suddenly realised that you might suffer from allergies… and so had second thoughts.”
Helen smiled her thanks and went off into the kitchen to find a vase. Quickly arranging them, she carried the vase back into the sitting room and placed them in a prominent position. “There, they look perfect!” Helen beamed at Martin and then went towards the drinks cabinet, asking Martin what he would like to drink as she walked. Martin named his favourite blend of whisky and Helen noted with dismay that not only did she no have this blend, but didn't have any whisky at all. Then she jumped as she felt Martin touch her arm, and tell her that it didn't matter, as he wasn't really very thirsty, and would much prefer a soft drink anyway. Helen moved off towards the kitchen and Martin followed, seating himself at the kitchen table.
This simple act seemed to break the ice, and soon they were chatting away about what they had been doing since they first met a month ago. Once the last of the tea had been squeezed from the pot, Mark stretched himself and remarked just how hungry he suddenly felt. Helen went to move towards the cupboards to prepare some food when Martin blocked her way, holding her arms tightly. “I have booked a restaurant for eight, and it wasn't food I was exactly hungry for!” Martins eyes twinkled mischievously as he watched Helen face redden as she worked out what it was he was referring to. “We have something like three hours to kill before we have to leave… now, how can we fill in the time? How about showing me around the house?” Martin asked in an innocent voice.
Helen nodded and waved towards the sitting room, “You have seen that room,” she said, her voice unnaturally tight, “and can probably tell that I don't use it very often. Over here,” she added, opening a door, “is my main room – bit of office, bit of TV room… bit of everything really.” Martin glanced in and nodded.
“And upstairs??? What's up there?”
Helen's stomach gave another lurch, as she tried hard to appear nonchalant.
“Oh just the bathroom and bedrooms. I use one, another is a guest room and the third is a bit of a junk room.”
“Well, let's go look then, shall we?” said Martin, nudging her from behind.
Helen made to stand back to allow her guest to go first, but Martin just put his hand in the small of her back and pushed a little more firmly. “You lead the way, I will follow.”
Trying hard to remain calm, Helen began to mount the stairs. When she was on the third step, she felt a hand running up her calf, and gave an involuntary shudder, but didn't stop climbing. As Martin was climbing behind her, his hand slid up and down her leg with each step they took. By the time Helen had reached the top landing, her heart was beating fast and she was becoming aroused. She cleared her throat before telling Martin that the first room was the junk room, and then came the guest room. He glanced quickly into each, before moving along. On the other side of the landing was the bathroom, and Peter glanced again. Helen hesitated when they came to the door at the end of the corridor but Martin prompted her, “And this is your room?”
Helen just mutely nodded, desperate to go in and use the large bed, but not wanting to take the lead in the slightest way. “Well, come on then, let's go and have a look, shall we??” Martin asked in a mock serious voice, and opened the door and guided her in. Once they were both inside, Martin firmly closed the door and began to look around. He nodded his approval at the unfussy décor that Helen had chosen, and remarked at the colour scheme of autumnal colours for all the soft furnishings. There were rich reds, gold, oranges and yellows along with muted greens and browns. Just listing the colours would make you think that the room clashed, but Helen had matched the differing hues so cleverly that it was like stepping into a wooded glade.
As Martin wandered around the room, looking at various items Helen had dotted about, she just stood there, unsure of what she should do. She gave a start as Martin opened up her wardrobe and began looking through her clothes. Helen made to say something, but changed her mind, and crossed the room. Martin looked at her and smiled at the uncertainty that showed in her face. “I would love to see you in this dress,” he said, pointing out a midnight blue, silky cocktail dress. “Perhaps you could model it for me?”
Helen took the dress, and headed towards her private bathroom to change, slightly puzzled at this turn of events. As she went to pass Martin, he stopped her, and took the dress from her hands. Helen stood before him passively, trying to work out what he expected her to do now. She soon found out as he gathered her towards him and ran his hands down her back until he reached the waistband of her skirt. With practised ease, Martin undid her skirt and began to slide it over her hips until it fell to the floor. He then turned his attention to her blouse and began to slowly undo the buttons. Helen opened her mouth to protest, but found it covered with his as he kissed her deeply for the first time that day. Martin was a good kisser and Helen began to melt under the onslaught, totally lost in the sensations until she felt the material of her blouse sliding off her shoulders. She had been so wrapped up in being kissed that she hadn't even realised that Martin had managed to get all the buttons unfastened.
Now she stood in her underwear, a little uncertain, and wishing it was better quality, and that her figure was more like it had been in her late teens. Did Martin expect her to shed the rest of her clothes, or put the cocktail dress on, or… what? Martin again took control and began to kiss her once more, at the same time running his hands up and down her back. Helen again began to melt again, losing herself totally in the moment. As she felt Martins hands run over her shoulders and down her upper arm, she realised that her bra was coming off. Martin's hands began to move over her now exposed breasts, gently at first and then with a little more force as he began to knead her flesh. As he brushed her nipples firmly, a small groan escaped Helens throat and was lost in the continuing kiss.
It wasn't until Helen felt the edge of the bed pressing against the back of her knees that she realised Martin had moved her very slowly backwards. He began to lean towards her more, applying subtle pressure so that Helen found herself falling onto her back on the bed. Martin swiftly finished taking her bra from her body and ran his hands down her stomach. Before Helen could begin to sit upright, Martin had hooked his fingers into the top of her panties and hose and was drawing them down her body. Helen was no completely naked, whilst Martin was still fully clothed.
“Very nice!” Martin exclaimed as he began to unbutton his shirt. Once his shirt had joined her discarded garments, he lay beside her on the bed, and began to kiss her again. Helen felt confident enough to respond, and started to kiss him back. When his hand began to caress her breasts, Helen began to feel as if she was in heaven, and felt her groin begin to respond. Tentatively, she raised a hand and ran it over his back, feeling his muscles ripple.
Martin felt the woman half below him relax and began to widen the lazy circles he was making with his hands. Although they had had sex last time, he wanted to make this moment live on in her memory and not be classed as a quick fumble and fuck. He could sense that Helen was beginning to be aroused, but wanted her at the stage where she was bucking and begging him to take her. Still kissing her deeply, so that she was both distracted and pinned to the bed, he carefully edged his fingers down over her stomach and towards her mons. Helen stiffened slightly, and then relaxed again as Martin stopped the movement with his hand.
Martin shifted his body slightly, so that his other arm was free. He used this to begin the kneading of Helen's breasts. It had the other advantage that his leg had fallen to resting on hers, and by applying very gentle pressure, he had managed to get a knee between hers, forcing her legs slightly apart. Once he felt her body relax again under the gentle movement of his roving hand and mouth, Martin began to inch his knee up slightly, inch by inch, until it was at mid thigh. Quickly taking advantage, he shot his lower hand down over her mons and began to stroke her vulva.
Helen gasped and tried to push him off, but Martin wasn't having any of it. “Relax. Just lay back and relax and enjoy it. I am not going to hurt you, but want this to be about your pleasure, not mine.” Helen nodded, a little uncertainly and tried to relax. She wanted the man to be in control, but now it came to it, she was full of doubts again. It had been many, many years since anyone had touched her intimately just for the sake of bringing her pleasure. Silently, she offered thanks that she was freshly showered and so fresh in all the places Martin was now beginning to probe.
Martin began to rub his fingers along her outer lips, until he felt her body relax. He then gently parted her lips and gently circled Helens hole, carefully inserting a finger just to the first knuckle and then withdrawing again. Martin continued this action until Helen gave a slight wriggle beneath him, as if trying to get his finger further in. Judging the time was right, Martin excused himself, telling Helen to move further on the bed while he fetched something from his car. Helen watched as Martin rushed from the room and figured that he was off to fetch some condoms, laughing to herself that if only he had asked, she had some in the bathroom cabinet… just in case!
Helen got up and stretched herself before settling again in the centre of the bed. She felt rather foolish just lying there and was just considering getting up again when Martin returned with a small bag that looked like a black cosmetics bag. 'Heavens!' thought Helen… 'what on earth??' but didn't have much time to wonder as Martin climbed on the bed and knelt beside her.
“Now, where were we?” he asked with a grin. “Oh yes… I believe I had a hand here, and another here, and my mouth was…” He leant over her and resumed kissing her deeply. Martin had placed the small zipped bag the far side of his body, so Helen wouldn't have been able to see what he got from it even if she had her eyes open… bust as they were lightly closed with the kiss, she had no idea that Martin had even opened the bag and was now holding a seven inch slim vibrator in his hand. Keeping Helen fully focussed on her mouth and breasts, Martin produced a miniature vibrator that he could slip over his finger, some lube, and something that looked like a baby's toothbrush and laid them with the vibe on the bed.
He broke the kiss and leaned over so his face was above Helens. Locking eyes with her, he told her that he was about to take her to heaven and back. If he did anything that she really didn't like, or the sensations got too much, she was to say so, and he would stop. He promised that he wasn't going to hurt her in anyway, but warned her that she might end up screaming or in tears! If she really and truly wanted him to stop, she was to yell BLUE, and he would stop immediately. He made Helen repeat what he had said, and then added, “I am in charge here. I want you to do exactly as I say, when I say it. Is that understood?” Helen bit her lip and nodded, wondering exactly what she had got herself into here. After all, she hardly knew Martin… what if… Helen gave herself a mental shake. Her best friend knew that she was entertaining him today, and was due to ring at seven to make sure everything was all right.
Helen decided to go with the flow and consciously relaxed, wondering what Martin was going to do. He had certainly been pushing her buttons so far, and she had been a little disappointed when he had begun to get her worked up and then ran off to his car. “I am not going to tie you up or anything,” Martin said, snapping Helen's attention back to what he was saying, “But I am going to lay this scarf across your eyes. Anytime you want to take it off, you can – but for now, close your eyes and let me make you fly!”
Helen didn't really like this idea, but thought she would give it a few minutes before she moved it. Not being able to see what was happening heightened Helen's other senses and she found herself straining to hear the slightest sound so as to get a clue as to what was happening. All she could hear was a faint rustle as Martin shifted his weight on the bed, so she gave a slight jerk as she felt his fingers touch her vulva. He was parting her lip, very gently, with the fingers of one hand. Oh this was so embarrassing, but also so hot. Helen could almost visualised him peering at her most private place, and then blushed as she realised that this was turning her on, and she was getting wet.
Helen gave a slight yelp as something cold hit her clit and wondered what on earth it could be, and then relaxed again as she worked out that Martin must have applied a little glob of lube. Her yelp turned into a low moan as his finger began to circle her tiny nub. Oh that felt good. It was so much better when a hand other than her own rubbed there. Alone she could run and flick all night and get nowhere, but already she could feel that her body was beginning to respond.
“I do so love the way you have styled your hair,” Martin remarked and made Helen frown as she wondered what he was talking about. The frown turned into a deep crimson blush as she worked out that he was referring to the fact that her pubic hair was trimmed very short and shaved in places. She had done it some time previously to wear a high-cut swimsuit and had so like the effect that she had kept it like that since.
Helen didn't have time to comment though as her breath was taken away as Martin inserted a finger into her hole and began to make circles with it. The circles reflected those being made on her clit and soon Helen was in torment trying to sort out messages from two different places. Her breathing quickened and her skin began to flush as all her senses focussed on her cunt. If he kept this up, she would soon be building to an orgasm. It wouldn't be a big one, but when you hadn't had one in week, the size didn't matter too much.
Sure enough, she soon found herself moving her hips slightly and could feel her muscles begin to clench in preparation for the minor earthquake. Just as she felt the wave was a bout to break, Martin withdrew his finger and Helen experienced a sense of anticlimax. A low 'nooooooooooo' escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and she heard Martin give a chuckle. “Oh you liked that did you?”
Helen didn't answer, and Martin repeated the question, giving one nipple a small pinch until Helen gasped a “yes!” The sharp pain was replaced by one of a different kind as Martin sucked hard on the aroused flesh. Helen was lost in the sensation and began to roll her head, making the scarf slip slightly. However, as she had closed her eyes to allow herself to concentrate on the sensations her body was experiencing. The finger on her clit also stopped its action and Helen was about to protest again when she felt herself being spread. Something was being pushed into her vagina, it felt odd at first, but her walls soon adjusted to whatever had replaced his finger. It wasn't much wider than maybe two slim fingers, but felt hard but squishy at the same time.